


focal point

by hollyhobbit101



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [14]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Happy Ending, Hurt Carlos Reyes, M/M, Married Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Memory Loss, Worried TK Strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyhobbit101/pseuds/hollyhobbit101
Summary: Waking up in the hospital is becoming all too familiar. Being the one in the bed is less so, but Carlos has had his fair share of hospital trips. He knows the drill.As soon as he sees him awake, TK breaks out in harsh sobs. "Carlos," he breathes. "I... I thought I'd lost you."
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691701
Comments: 11
Kudos: 167
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	focal point

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for the medical inaccuracies. i attempted some research but i'm no expert and i didn't understand a lot of it.
> 
> anon: Can I request an angst to fluff Tarlos fic with Carlos having Memory loss??

Waking up in the hospital is becoming all too familiar. Being the one  _ in  _ the bed is less so, but Carlos has had his fair share of hospital trips. He knows the drill.

It’s difficult to turn his head, but he manages enough to catch sight of TK in the chair next to his bed, his hand lying limply in Carlos’s own. Carlos twitches his fingers and TK starts, eyes searching out his. 

“Carlos,” he breathes, half-rising from the chair only to immediately slump back down, breaking out in harsh sobs. 

Carlos frowns. “What -” he starts, but his throat is dry and raw and even breathing is a little painful right now. TK clearly notices and hastily wipes his eyes, sending Carlos a wobbly smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just…  _ God _ , Carlos.” He shakes his head and stands up, kissing Carlos’s knuckles. “I’ll get the doctor. We can talk later.”

* * *

Later, as it turns out, isn’t for a few more hours, after Carlos has gone through every test imaginable. The doctors don’t say a word about what happened, aside from, “You’re very lucky, sir,” and, “We’re glad to have you back with us, sir.”

TK is similarly quiet, his leg bouncing nervously as they wait for the doctor to pronounce his verdict. Talking is easier now, but Carlos doesn’t want to push his luck so he answers the doctor’s questions and refrains from demanding responses of his own.

When they’re finally alone, night has started closing in. TK perches on the edge of Carlos’s bed, carefully avoiding touching him aside from where their fingers intertwine. TK’s barely let go of his hand since Carlos woke up.

Carlos waits patiently, studying his husband’s face. TK looks terrible, and even if Carlos suspects he himself doesn’t look any better, he can’t help but be concerned. 

Eventually, TK takes a shuddering breath and looks up from the bedsheet, finally meeting Carlos’s eyes. “How much do you remember?” he asks quietly.

“Not much.” Carlos shakes his head. “Nothing.”

TK nods. He takes a long time to speak again, his free hand fidgeting with the sheets. “You were attacked. I only know what your partner and the doctor told me, but it was bad, Carlos. Multiple stab wounds, you hit your head badly, they strangled you… When I got the call -” He breaks off and looks away, brushing away tears before clearing his throat. “When I got the call, they told me I needed to get here because they didn’t know if…”

TK trails off and, this time, he doesn’t try to talk again. He doesn’t need to; Carlos knows full well what that ‘if’ means. 

“Ty…”

“No.” TK says firmly, attempting a smile. “No, it’s okay. You’re okay, the doctors said so, and you’ll be home in a few days. So.”

Carlos doesn’t bother arguing. He simply smiles back at his husband, and hopes that he’s right.

* * *

It starts small.

He forgets the time, a lot - but that’s normal, right? He’s pretty much confined to the sofa or the bed while he heals, and it’s not like there’s much to do but binge bad daytime tv. It’s only natural that he’d lose track of time.

He’s not great at remembering to take his prescription either, but that’s what TK’s for - or so he jokes. Carlos feels guilty for that, kind of; he’s thankful for TK’s presence and he knows he just wants to look after him, but he hates keeping TK here.

“You can go back to work, you know,” he says on the sixth day. TK pouts at him, folding his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly. “Not until you’re healed.”

Carlos sighs, exasperated. “TK, I’m healed enough to go to the fridge and back by myself. Anyway, you’re one to talk, Mr Busted-His-Stitches-Two-Days-After-Being-Released-From-Hospital.”

“That was two years ago. And that’s Mr Busted-His-Stitches-Two-Days-After-Being-Released-From-Hospital- _ Strand-Reyes _ to you,” TK quips, but it’s clear his heart’s not in it. He sits on the couch (carefully, so as not to jostle Carlos) and meets Carlos’s eyes, twisting his wedding band anxiously. “I’m just worried. I could have lost you, and I hate the thought of me going back to work and then something going wrong.”

Carlos grimaces. “I get that, babe,” he says, lacing their fingers together. “But I’m fine. I’ll be fine, I swear.”

TK sends him a dubious look. Carlos smiles and kisses his cheek.

“I promise I’ll call if I’m ever not fine,” he adds, which seems to mollify TK. They resume their movie, though Carlos can’t exactly remember much of what happened. He doesn’t ask, though; it’s probably nothing, right?

* * *

So, Carlos might be panicking. 

He doesn’t know where TK is. Which, ordinarily, wouldn’t be too much of an issue, but it’s two in the morning and TK’s not in bed, nor is he in the house. Carlos knows TK must have said something to him earlier, he wouldn’t just  _ leave  _ like that, and he can feel the memory lurking at the edge of his mind but he can’t get to it and  _ he doesn’t know where TK is _ .

Yeah, Carlos is definitely panicking.

TK picks up on the fourth ring, his voice muffled from sleep, but clearly concerned. “Carlos?”

Carlos collapses on the sofa, still confused, but mostly just thankful to hear TK’s voice. He lets the silence drag on, trying to figure out how to explain why he’s calling in the middle of the night whilst also not worrying TK too much.

Unfortunately, this accomplishes the exact opposite.

“Carlos, talk to me,” TK demands, sounding a lot more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I woke up and you weren’t there,” he says slowly, keeping his voice as level as possible. “I just… I’m a bit confused.”

TK’s frown is audible. “Carlos, I’m at work.”

“Oh.”

And - oh. Carlos  _ does  _ remember now. Sort of. Well, not exactly, but he recalls TK saying something about heading out and ‘see you soon’ and - Carlos is an idiot.

He flushes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m coming home.”

“What? TK, no, it’s fine -”

“I’m coming home,” TK repeats, more forcefully this time, cutting Carlos off. “I’ve cleared it with my dad, I’ll be back as fast as I can.” A pause, and when TK speaks again, his voice is painfully soft. “We’ll figure this out, Carlos. I promise.”

Carlos nods, though he knows TK can’t see him. “TK?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay on the line with me?” A part of Carlos feels silly for asking, but the panic from earlier hasn’t truly faded. It’s not just tonight either; he knows that something’s been wrong since the attack, and he can’t help but worry despite himself.

TK’s answer comes without hesitation. “Of course.”

* * *

“You had a traumatic brain injury,” the doctor explains. “It’s common to experience some degree of memory loss after such an event.”

“Right, but - but it can be cured, can’t it?” TK asks, his left hand squeezing Carlos’s right in a death grip. 

The doctor gives him a sympathetic smile, which does  _ nothing  _ to reassure either of them. “I’d say it can be managed.”

“Managed? What does that mean?” TK glances anxiously over at Carlos. Carlos tries for a smile, but he has a feeling that it comes out more like a grimace.

“From what you’ve told me, I’d say what you’re experiencing, Officer, is more on the milder side,” she says. “There are a couple of treatments we could try, but in your case I wouldn’t recommend them. You’ll have to establish some compensatory strategies - basically, anything that will help to jog your memory.”

Carlos leans forward in his chair. “What sort of things would you suggest?”

“Routine is always a good start.” The doctor shrugs, folding her hands on the desk. “Written reminders, post-its, even the notes on your phone. Different things work for different people. I won’t lie to you, it’ll take some time. But, with any luck, you’ll be able to live your life just as normal soon.”

* * *

Carlos rolls over in bed, his arm reaching out for TK only to come into contact with a sticky note instead. It’s been like this since they saw the doctor two weeks ago - TK had gone a little crazy and practically bought the store’s entire supply of post-its in a panic. 

There are reminders stuck up all over the apartment, several of them with a copy of TK’s shift schedule written on them, though getting TK to go back to work had been a fight all of its own. The multiple post-its are a concession on Carlos’s part, a condition on TK’s.

Carlos had told him it wasn’t necessary, but he appreciates the effort. And… It helps. More than he can really express. 

Something else TK has taken to is leaving a note in the bed whenever he gets up before Carlos. Even if he’s still in the house which, judging by the clattering of pans and soft cursing coming from the kitchen, Carlos is pretty sure is the case today. He smiles softly and opens his eyes, squinting at the post-it.

_ Reminder,  _ it reads.  _ I love you. _

_ (ps making breakfast) _

Carlos huffs a laugh, shaking his head. After laying there for a few seconds, he heaves himself up and heads towards the kitchen, post-it in hand.

He watches TK in silence for a while before speaking. “Got your note.”

TK jumps at the sound of Carlos’s voice, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the open cupboard door.

“Careful. We don’t want two of us with memory issues,” Carlos jokes.

TK shoots him a dark look. “Not funny,” he grumbles.

Carlos grins and walks over, wrapping his arms around TK from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Come on,” he says. “It was a little bit funny.”

“It wasn’t,” TK insists, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turns so that they’re facing each other and winds his arms around Carlos’s neck. “What did you think of the note? Too much?”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything.”

Carlos laughs as TK’s mouth drops open in mock outrage. 

“That’s so  _ rude _ , Reyes,” he says.

“That’s Reyes- _ Strand _ to you,” Carlos corrects, grinning. “And you did ask.”

TK smiles properly then, and Carlos can’t help but to kiss him. “I love you, too,” he murmurs when they break apart. 

They stay like that for a while, until Carlos sniffs the air, raising an eyebrow. “Are we sure I’m the forgetful one?”

TK frowns, then curses, turning to desperately attempt to salvage the burnt remains of breakfast. Carlos just laughs, his heart filling with love for his husband all over again. He’ll rescue TK at some point but for now…

For now, Carlos thinks he’ll just enjoy the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! you can find me/prompt me on tumblr @morganaspendragonss :)


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